


sweet dreams of holly and ribbon

by sumaru



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Object Insertion, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rimming, Santa Felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumaru/pseuds/sumaru
Summary: "You seriously want me to go around delivering gifts? Hmph. Make the boar do it. That'll be good for a laugh."Dimitri obliges.(But Felix does not laugh, exactly.)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 13
Kudos: 46





	sweet dreams of holly and ribbon

Felix jingles angrily. 

“You would shirk your duty as our representative.” Dimitri frowns. He does not mind, would actually enjoy the respite, but: “After the professor has put their trust in you.”

“My—” Felix spits. “ _Duty_. Was to win the White Heron Cup, and I have. It’s not whatever this nonsense is!”

Felix exaggerates. It is not so bad. The professor, no matter their unconventional ways, has always had the best for them at heart. The fine red wool of Felix's costume is warm and well-tailored to the strong line of his shoulder and trim waist; the cheery little hat tied snugly under his chin to prevent any hindrance in movement or battle. The bow is a bit gaudy for Dimitri’s taste, but the wood appears sturdy and well-balanced, the golden bell spelled for both strength and defense, and it— it sets off the alluring gold of Felix's eyes, the thought as strange and startling as it is to see Felix in anything other than his school uniform or the greens and blues of his house. 

Dimitri swallows, sweat sticking his collar. An icy wind rattles the windows but inside his dorm room, the candles smoke and sputter in the closed heat.

“There’s merit in calming nerves before a battle.” The professor will have a bag ready for Felix, filled with trinkets thought lost to give back to their rightful owners, and in these troubling times, it seems a good way to ease the spirit of his peers; to give back something that was once thought gone. It would be nice, Dimitri thinks mutely, if the same could be as easily done for him. “And you used to enjoy Sothismas, why, I remember one year you—”

The wood protests as Felix stomps the floor. “Shut up, boar!”

“But I accept. In exchange for—”

“Five minutes!”

“Ten minutes.”

Felix glares. “Five minutes! Not one second more. I've seen your sword work of late, you would snap the Zoltan right in half given the chance!”

He really does not mind playing the spirit of Sothismas. He feels like he is cheating, a little. “I accept your terms, then.”

Any son of Faerghus knows the way about their dress. In the dark; to be quick about it. Being able to tie your own doublet or buckle your own plate is the difference between a parry and a blade between the ribs. Dimitri has already stripped his capelet and outer garments, carefully folding his pants along the crease and draping them over a chair when he realises that Felix is struggling with the candy cane strapped about his leg. Pauldron and gloves lie haphazard on Dimitri’s bed where Felix sits, still mostly clothed. The boots have been discarded in a heap on the floor.

“Ah, Felix—”

“Nonsense! Absolute fucking nonsense!” There’s a bead of sweat at Felix’s temple as he folds himself almost in half, trying in vain to unbuckle the fussy straps. Dimitri stares at the sweat glowing there, holding his breath for no reason he can fathom. Candle light stripes the walls, flickering. Felix in all that red wool is like a lurid stain against his crisp white sheets. 

“Let me help you.” Dimitri breathes again. “Please.”

“I don’t need your help, you’ll just—” Felix’s head snaps up, the gold of his eyes sharp enough to cut something loose inside Dimitri. “You’ll just rip my clothes and then where will we be!”

 _In my room_ , he wants to answer, unmoored. Instead, faintly: “I’ve squired before without incident, I promise to be careful.”

A huff. “Fine. Get on with it then.”

Dimitri kneels down between Felix’s legs and sees the problem right away. The strap that keeps the candy cane in place has become twisted inside the buckle and will need to be gently untangled before it can be removed. The buckles themselves, fitted against Felix’s thigh, flash dizzyingly in the low light.

And Felix’s thighs, lean and muscled from all his sword work, strain against the fitted cloth.

He can see the hard sculpt of the muscle, art in itself. How different from the plush inside of the thigh that rests on the sheets. _His_ sheets, where he had lain hot and restless just this night past after Felix had made him yield during a late evening’s spar. The guilt rises in him, heady. Felix has entrusted himself to Dimitri for assistance. Has only recently deigned to speak to him again, friendship a fragile line they are both walking, and the pain of it being broken again because he could not control this beastliness inside of himself— the thought is almost too much to bear. 

Dimitri bites his lip, steeling his will, and gently lays a hand on the inside of Felix’s thigh. 

A sharp intake of breath ruffles his bangs. Dimitri looks up and sees Felix staring down at him, his mouth this close as wet and violent as blood. “Go on, boar. What are you waiting for?”

Dimitri does not mean to breath in so deep. But Felix’s scent is strong between the spread of his legs, the spice of his sweat that cannot be bathed away completely, the metal tang of sword oil that always seems to cling to him, and something else, something—? He cannot meet Felix’s gaze as it pierces the back of his neck. He can only swallow the spit that floods his mouth, feelings unspeakable, hands large and clumsy as he picks at the first buckle.

He’s dreamt of this, being made to yield. Over and over again, on his back, on his knees, lurid, violent. But in his dreams, Felix always has his sword pointed at Dimitri’s throat. It’s never been like this, wool and thighs soft; Felix, yielding instead to the gentleness of his hand. He thinks: this is even better.

The leather slides under the candy cane and slaps up against his arm. Felix’s leg jumps and Dimitri really must be the beast that he is so often called, knowing nothing else but his deepest instincts; he presses a strong hand against Felix’s hip to hold him, strong enough to hurt.

“What—”

And there. The line of Felix’s cock pressing against the wool and he is so helpless to it, in the heat, in between Felix’s legs; Dimitri presses down harder against his hip, watches hungrily as Felix’s cock twitches. It feels impossible, the candle light swirling his thoughts to nothing but the blood pounding in his ears, Felix presented to him as if he was Dimitri’s lost gift himself.

“Felix,” Dimitri tries, hoarse. He passes a hand over the bulge of Felix’s cock, the heat of it making him feel wild in a way he almost fears as Felix jerks against his palm. Surely this is a dream, a ghostly vision with a new sort of cruelty. But no, a spot darkens at the edge of Felix’s cock pushing against the fabric, and Dimitri wonders if it will be just as hot pressing down on his tongue, too. “Let me. Please, let me.”

Hands push at his shoulders but Dimitri is immovable before this much.

“Was this your idea of helping!” Felix’s thighs tremble around him but he has not made to move away, as if trapped. It is not like Felix to be prey, and the thought darkens something else in Dimitri, too.

He looks up then, sees the pink flush across Felix’s cheeks, drawing a blush down his throat. A path just for him to take, and he knows now, with terrible certainty, that he will take it for sure. “It will not do to get your clothing dirty.” A liar, a beast, nothing more than animal now as he smoothes both hands down the sharp jut of Felix’s hips, all the Saints forgive him. “Let this be my five minutes instead.”

“Nobody will listen to me when I say you’re nothing more than some boar,” Felix snarls, but he curls a naked foot around Dimitri’s shoulder.

Dimitri licks his mouth. “As you say.”

He yanks Felix’s pants down, fabric barely holding together at the seams as he bares Felix’s cock, shifts his weight up so he can put his mouth right to the base where the balls lie heavy. There, nosing where he had only caught it faintly before, the dark scent of Felix’s sweat and skin, velvet soft against his tongue. They fill his mouth, stretching his jaw to a dull ache, but he is greedy for it, wants to hold Felix in his mouth like this as he makes plaintive noises until the sun itself goes out.

“Dimitri, _fuck_ —”

Felix’s cock twitches against his cheek and he ignores it, sucks Felix’s balls, wet and sloppy, and Felix’s heel digs into the meat of his back, and that feels good, too, holding all of Felix’s weight perched in the dangerous, precarious balance of his mouth. 

Hands twist in his hair, pain a delirious shock behind his eyes as Felix tries to tug his face up. Dimitri lets him, mouth coming off Felix’s heavy sac, already tight with want; away from the prize Dimitri had not even had a chance at yet, even deeper between Felix’s legs.

But he wants what Felix wants.

“Can you not even suck cock properly?” But Felix’s breath wheezes, tight like this, too, and Dimitri wants nothing more than to know how Felix sounds if he cannot even form the words. 

He presses down harder on Felix’s hips. The animal in him means to trap Felix where he can’t escape at all. It is the only answer he has, shifting his weight low to lap again—

Cock and candy cane poke his lips, both a little wet. Both sticky. 

“Felix.” Dimitri’s eyes water at the sudden sharp whiff of mint that fills his nose. His mouth tingles. “Is this a real candy cane?”

“What?” Incredulous, even as Felix spreads his legs a little wider, shaking. “What does it matter?”

He misses Felix’s scent already with an intensity that scares him but there is a curiosity in him that he cannot deny, taking the candy cane into his mouth to satisfy it. He cannot taste the mint but he can smell it, and the sharpness of it prickles pleasantly on his tongue as he sucks on it.

Mouth tingling with mint and wet with spit, Dimitri bows low to lap at Felix’s hole. 

He only hears the tail end of Felix’s gasp, trailing into a sob as Felix’s thighs close about his head in a vice. Felix’s heel digs deep like an ache against his back as Dimitri mouths clumsily at whatever he can reach, the tightness of Felix’s hole still closed to him. Instead: the silkiest skin behind Felix’s balls gets the flat of his tongue, the dark pink of his rim flushing dark as Dimitri sucks, every one of his nerves red and raw as he listens to the soft whines that Felix keeps biting off, even as he writhes against Dimitri’s hold on his hips, pushing himself into the wetness of Dimitri’s mouth. 

“More,” Felix demands, gasping. Dimitri’s cock aches with need, almost painful, but Felix’s hole is shiny with spit, the cant of Felix’s spread legs so inviting, just looking at them he could easily spend himself. Too soon. And Felix deserves everything he asks for, lovely like this, yielding like this just for him.

Dimitri carefully slides the candy cane from its strap and presses the tip, still wet from his mouth, into Felix’s hole.

“ _Fuck_.”

Felix clenches down, his hole sucking the candy cane in like he would take every indignity that Dimitri would have him suffer, and it shocks a feeling both terrible and dark in him. Felix would gladly take his fingers, his cock, if he offered them.

Has Felix always felt this way?

“Dimitri, don’t _stop_.”

Both heels dig painfully into his back and Dimitri, how could he refuse him? How could he ever deny this Felix anything?

Already the rim of Felix’s hole is red and plush, overly sensitive to Dimitri’s greedy mouth, the mint that lingers there, but he takes more of the candy cane so readily into the tightness of his body, thighs trembling as Dimitri slides it in, inch by inch, without pause. Hunger is like a fever in Dimitri’s blood, burning him with the need to see how much Felix can take, to see him take all of the pleasure that Dimitri will give him.

So Dimitri does not stop. 

The candy cane bottoms out at the curve and Felix is still gasping half-swears at him, sweat slicking his skin so his legs slide against Dimitri’s shoulders, frustrated for more, hands grasping at Dimitri’s hair, his cheeks, brushing impatiently against Dimitri’s mouth. Setting a terrible pace, no rhythm, no good parries. 

“You will take what I give you, Felix,” Dimitri growls as he bites at Felix’s fingers, sucks gently to show what he means.

He pulls the candy cane out, shifts a little to stare at the way Felix’s hole clenches about it. He is not the only greedy one. Felix moans as it drags against his rim and Dimitri rubs it slow and steady just to watch Felix arch into him, demanding more. He does not mean to be cruel, but Felix makes him dangerous, makes him press his mouth chaste against the inside of Felix’s slick thigh as he roughly pushes the candy cane back in, deep, deeper, the curve tipping up—

“Wait! Dimitri! I’m—”

A heaving breath. The candle by the bedside flares, light limning the shock on Felix’s face. 

“Oh.” There is something warm and wet in the corner of Dimitri’s mouth. He gingerly touches it and his fingers come away white. “It seems you liked that quite a bit.”

Felix’s little hat has stayed on despite it all, only to finally fall off as he kicks out at Dimitri’s shoulder, but Dimitri catches him by the ankle.

“Five minutes over, boar!”

Felix just looks a vision like this, flushed and panting, long legs spread across Dimitri’s now messy sheets. He is almost as red as what little remains of his red coat. Something too large sits itself in Dimitri’s chest, and all he can do is gently pull Felix’s foot toward himself, presses his mouth to the delicate ankle. The weight of Felix’s gaze on him is like gold.

Dimitri smiles. “Then let us dress me for this Sothismas battle.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's fantasy mint so all of Felix's soft bits are okay! Don't worry about it! Happy Sothismas!


End file.
